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"Ah!" interrupted Callythorpe, with a solemn look, "everybody knows that you are not one of those horrid persons, those atrocious deists and atheists and sceptics, from whom the Church and freedom of old England have suffered such danger. I am a true Briton of the good old school; and I confess, Mr. Trollolop, that I do not like to hear any opinions but the right ones."
Callythorpe, and the third Sir Christopher Findlater. We will sketch them to you in an instant. Mr. Trollolop was a short, stout gentleman, with a very thoughtful countenance,-that is to say, he wore spectacles and took snuff. Mr.
"You know, Trollolop," said Callythorpe, in a singularly endearing intonation of voice, "you know that I never flatter; flattery is unbecoming a true friend, nay, more, it is unbecoming a native of our happy isles, and people do say of you that you know nothing whatsoever, no, not an iota, of all that nonsensical, worthless philosophy of which you are always talking. Lord St.
One evening, when Clarence was alone in his rooms, Mr. Trollolop entered. "My dear Linden," said the visitor, "how are you?" "I am, as I hope you are, very well," answered Clarence. "The human mind," said Trollolop, taking off his greatcoat, "Sir Christopher Findlater and Mr. Callythorpe, sir," said the valet. "Pshaw! What has Sir Christopher Findlater to do with the human mind?" muttered Mr.
Callythorpe, and the third Sir Christopher Findlater. We will sketch them to you in an instant. Mr. Trollolop was a short, stout gentleman, with a very thoughtful countenance,-that is to say, he wore spectacles and took snuff. Mr.
"My dear sir," interrupted Callythorpe, very affectionately, "you remind me of what people say of you." "Memory may be reduced to sensation, since it is only a weaker sensation," quoth Trollolop; "but proceed."
Trollolop. Sir Christopher entered with a swagger and a laugh. "Well, old fellow, how do you do? Deuced cold this evening." "Though it is an evening in May," observed Clarence; "but then, this cursed climate." "Climate!" interrupted Mr. Callythorpe, "it is the best climate in the world: I am an Englishman, and I never abuse my country." "'England, with all thy faults, I love thee still!"
Trollolop's capacious mind; and whenever he opened his mouth, the imprisoned enemies came rushing and scrambling out, overturning and contradicting each other in a manner quite astounding to the ignorant spectator. Mr. Callythorpe was meagre, thin, sharp, and yellow.
Trollolop, having exhausted the whole world of metaphysics, died like Descartes, "in believing he had left nothing unexplained." Mr. Callythorpe entered the House of Commons at the time of the French Revolution. He distinguished himself by many votes in favour of Mr. Honourable Gentlemen may laugh; but I'm a true Briton, and will not serve my friend the less because I scorn to flatter him."
"I am glad to hear you say so; for you know, my dear Linden," said Callythorpe, "that I am your true friend, and I must therefore tell you that you are shamefully ignorant. You are not offended?" "Not at all!" said Clarence, trying to smile. "Mr. "You must not be angry, my good sir; you must not, really.
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